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ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 



P H I L O L E X I A N SOCIETY, 



(SroiumtJia aitoUtQt, 



MAY 17 th, 1810; 



BFINCr TBE ANNIVERSARY OF THE SOCIETY: 



BENJAMIN I. HAIGHT, A. M. 

Rector of All Saints' Church, New-York. 






NEW-YORK 
1810. 



4 



AN 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 



PHILOLEXIAN SOCIETY, 



MAY 17th, 1840; 

BEING THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE SOCIETY: 

BY 

BENJAMIN I. HAIGHT, A. M. 

Rector of All Saints' Church, New- York. 



NEW-YORK: 

WILLIAM C. MARTIN, Print., 113 FULTON STREET. 

1840. 



'I 



1 H'b 



2-^ 



Columbia College, 
May 22d, 1840. 



At a meeting of the Philolexian Society of Columbia College, held May 
22d, 1840, the following resolutions were unanimously adopted: 

Resolved, That the warmest thanks of this Society be tendered to the Rev. 
Mr. Haight, for the able and eloquent oration delivered before them at 
their late anniversary. 

Resolved, That the Rev. Mr. Haight be respectfully requested to furnish 
a copy of his oration for pubhcation, and that a Committee of three be 
appointed to wait on Mr. Haight for that purpose. 

Resolved, That Messrs. Van Voorhis, Romaine, and Parmly, constitute 
that Committee. 

- [Copy.] 

GEORGE L. NEWTON, 

Secretary. 



H«W ^OIlK PtJBL. LtBft. 



^^ 



- h 

o 



TO 

Rev. ROBERT WILLIAM HARRIS, A.M. 

THIS ADDRESS 

IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, 

BY HIS 

FRIEND AND BROTHER, 

THE AUTHOR. 



ADDRESS. 



Gentlemen of the Philolexian Society : 

Standing before you, and this respected audience this 
evening, by your kind invitation — an honor of which I am 
deeply sensible, and to which I feel that I am little entitled, 
except as an affectionate son of our Alma Mater, and as an 
honorary member of your body — my thoughts are involunta- 
rily, yet powerfully carried back to other days, when, under 
far different circumstances, I stood with my fellow students 
beneath this roof. The scenes of college life are re-produced 
with no ordinary vividness upon memory's tablet. The 
hopes, the fears, the aspirations, the enjoyments, the privi- 
leges of that most interesting and important period of one's 
life, crowd upon the mind. Again do I warmly greet my com- 
panions and friends. Again do I hear the well known sound 
of the bell, summoning us to chapel or the lecture room, and 
again experience something of those mingled feelings which 
the thought of possible or probable failure in the duties of the 
day always excited, as the first stroke of that bell fell upon the 
ear. Again do I listen to the oracles of God, and the solemn 
words of prayer, within these sacred walls. Again do I sit by 
the table, with the volume of Grecian or Roman eloquence or 
poetry in my hand ; or stand by the black board and follow 
the mathematician of Alexandria in his demonstrations ; or 



6 



with pencil and paper in hand, am ready to take notes as the 
treasures of moral and physical science are unfolded to our 
view. And again do I enter our society room, as the studies 
and labors of the week are over, and prepare to take part in 
its inspiriting and improving exercises. 

Yes ! these were happy days, never to be forgotten. With 
all their toils and trials — and these they had, as every colle- 
gian knows — they were happy days ; and while memory 
lasts, the recollection of their pleasures, the affection of com- 
panions, the kindness and care of instructors, and the multi- 
tude of minor matters which went to heighten the beauty of 
the scenes amid which we then walked, will not fade away. 

" Hsec olim meminisse juvabit." 

With such thoughts crowding in upon the mind of your 
speaker, on an occasion like the present, it cannot be other- 
wise than natural and proper to give them utterance. If to 
any who hear me they should seem to be too trivial to be 
mentioned, sure I am, that they will not be so regarded by 
those whose privilege it was, in the early years of life, to 
tread these classic hails. 

As I thus, gentlemen, recall the incidents of past days, 
and dwell in thought upon the friends with whom I was then 
associated, and especially those who were fellow members of 
the Philolexian Society, my mind rests upon one who here 
highly distinguished himself as a scholar, and who was re- 
spected and beloved by all who knew him ; but who, 'ere he 
had entered upon the active duties of life, was laid low by the 
arrow of death. I allude to Walter Nichols, who gradu- 



ated with the highest honors of the institution, in the year 
1825 ; and who was in every respect one of the noblest sons 
of this college.* Though my senior in years, and in collegi- 
ate life, it was my privilege to enjoy his acquaintance and his 
friendship ; and never shall I forget the morning when, as I 
passed beneath the ancient sycamores, in front of this build- 
ing, thinking of the meeting of our society in the evening — 
the first in the session — and that I should then again greet my 
friend, who was at that time its President, I was told that he 
had been removed to another world. Rarely have such tidings 
filled so many hearts with deepest sorrow. Rarely does the 
king of terrors snatch from life one so well fitted to adorn it ; 
not only by talents and attainments, but by every virtue. As 
we thus stand by the tomb where youth and excellence lie 
buried, and drop the tear of friendship, we are almost led to 
utter the plamt of the poet : 

O, sir, the good die first, 
While they whose hearts are hard as summer's dust. 
Burn to the socket.t 

But as the friends and scenes of that period pass in review, 
I look upon the form of our beloved President, the Rev. Dr. 
Harris, who now rests from his labors. The whitened locks 
of that venerable man ; his placid smile ; his silvery voice ; 
his courteous and quiet manners ; his unafi^ected dignity ; his 
high moral worth ; are well known to very many of those 
who hear me : and not a few, I am persuaded, remember 
them with filial aff*ection and reverence. I had the happiness 
and the honor to belong to the last senior class which gradu- 

* Note x\. t Wordsworth. 



8 

ated under his presidency, and enjoyed in common with a 
number of my classmates, his warm friendship. Hence I 
shall be pardoned, if in speaking of his character, I shall 
seem to those who never sustained to him a similar relation, 
to use language too strong and glowing. 

Often have I dwelt upon the hours which, as seniors, we 
passed in his room. We were not there as students, but rather 
as sons around an aged father, listening to his affectionate 
counsels. And well do I remember our last interview with him 
as a class. We went in to receive his closing instructions. 
He began to impart them ; he alluded to the occasion ; his 
voice trembled ; his feelings entirely overcame him, and all 
he could utter was, " My sons, God bless you !" 

In a few months I watched by his lifeless corpse ; and 
with many who honored and loved him followed him to the 
tomb. His end was that of the good man, — peace. 

How calm his exit ! 
Night dews fall not more gently to the ground, 
Nor weary worn out winds expire so soft.* 

But though dead he lives. He lives in the hearts of his 
pupils and friends ; he lives in the annals of literature and 
religion ; and far more than all, and far better than all, he 
lives in the world of purity and bliss, never more to die. 

The life of the late president of this college, affords a 
striking instance of the great value, and high power of moral 
worth. The testimony once borne by the Savior of the world 
to Nathaniel, was with great propriety and beauty applied to 
him by the friendf who pronounced his funeral sermon : " An 

■'■ Blair. + Rev. Dr. M'Vickar. 



9 

Israelite indeed in whom is no guile." Dr. Harris was em- 
phatically a good man. His purity, his integrity, his consci- 
entiousness, his benevolence — I use the word in its highest 
sense — stood forth so prominently, that the eye of the ob- 
server rested upon these, almost to the neglect of his other 
qualities. He was a scholar, a poet, and a divine ; and yet it 
was not as these that he was known, nor is it as these that he is 
remembered, so much as the man of high moral and Christian 
principle and purpose ; the man of probity, of virtue ; over all 
which was thrown the beauteous mantle of charity. Hence it 
was that he acquired so great an influence over those brought 
within his sphere. His pupils could not but love and respect 
him, and were insensibly lead to submit to his guidance. A 
strikino- instance in illustration and confirmation of this occurs 

o 

to my mind. One of the classes, acting under the influence 
of excited feeling, growing out of some imagined wrong done 
to certain members of their body, resolved not to attend the 
lectures of one of the professors ; and accordingly, when the 
hour arrived, left the green, and went to their homes. This 
event broke in upon the quiet of our college life, and occa- 
sioned no little excitement. All were wondering what steps 
would be taken by the Faculty, and what would be the issue. 
The next day when the hour arrived, as the bell struck, the 
president was seen standing upon the steps, uncovered, his sil- 
ver locks waving in the breeze, silently and intently looking 
upon the groups of students as they came out from their seve- 
ral rooms and stood beneath the trees. The refractory class 
hesitated ; but it was only for a moment, and then to a man, 



10 

if my memory serves me, they tm-ned and went to their 
duty.* 

Now it is well for us, gentlemen, to contemplate a charac- 
ter like this. It is attractive in itself; and in any age, and 
under any circumstances, would suggest many important 
points of instruction. But in an age like ours, marked by so 
many peculiar characteristics, it cannot be too closely scanned, 
nor can the lessons which it utters be too carefully treasured 
up. It is the temper of the age in which we live to idolize 
mere talent ; to set a value altogether too high upon bare in- 
tellectual power ; and proportionably to depreciate other 
qualities of the mind and heart. Men crave distinction, and 
seek eagerly for power, and too often are regardless of the 
means, so they can but secure the end. And such distinc- 
tion and influence is sought, not that thereby they may confer 
greater benefits upon society, but for its own sake, and the 
paltry, selfish gratification which it is thought to impart. 
Wealth is an important auxiliary, when this is the object 
which the soul longs to attain ; and hence it becomes invested 
with new lustre, and acts upon the affections and the will like 
the magnet upon the iron. Powerfully are they drawn to- 
wards it. Ardently do they covet it ; and no means of adding 
to its stores is left untried. 

Now it is exceedingly difficult to live in such an age and 
not imbibe too much of its spirit. It is exceedingly difficult not 
thus to estimate mere vigor of mind, intellectual powers, 
the flights of genius, and the ability to control and regulate 

* Note B. 



11 

the opinions and practices of our fellow-citizens ; and with 
such an estimate of these qualities, and the results to the 
accomplishment of which they are employed, not to bend 
all our energies to their attainment and improvement, and 
so to lose sight entirely of other most important features of 
our mental and moral nature, and to forget the true end of 
life. The world around, the great mass of men, under the 
influence of those who are styled and regarded as the wisest 
and the greatest, are judging by one standard, are hurrying 
on in one path. To set up another standard, to mark out and 
to pursue another path, is far from being an easy task ; and but 
few are found who have the courage to attempt it, still fewer 
who have the perseverance, having attempted it, to go stead- 
ily forward. It does require more than ordinary wisdom and 
firmness, to look to the less shining qualities, as the more 
desirable, and to strive for their attainment, rather than for 
those which are more brilliant, and more generally admired ; 
and while sedulously cultivating all one's talents, improving 
every faculty, storing the mind with the truths and facts of 
science, sharpening and improving its powers by every proper 
mode, paying all due homage to learning and genius, at the 
same time to aim steadily at the firm establishment and vigor- 
ous development of moral principle within ; to make the secur- 
ing of this an object of paramount importance ; to reverence 
supremely, and most closely to follow after that which is good ; 
always to ask, and to ask fearlessly. What is Duty? and 
then, though feeling, and present interest, and popularity, yea, 
all that the world so highly prizes, should oppose, to do it ; to 
pursue such a course, I say, is not easy. Our judgments may 



12 

decide in the hour of quiet and sober reflection that it is the 
true course, and we may resolve that it shall be ours. But 
when we again enter the world, and begin to put our princi- 
ples into practice, we find it an almost Herculean task, and too 
often abandon it in despair. 

The difficulty of forming and acting upon sound and 
correct views as to these things, is very much increased, and 
especially in the case of the young man just setting out in life, 
by the prejudice so widely extended and so deeply rooted in 
the world of literature and politics, and in the world gener- 
ally, against laying stress on the supreme importance of high 
moral and religious principle, and of a course of life strictly 
conformable thereto, as if there were something in this ad- 
verse, or at least not favorable to high attainment and high 
distinction as a scholar or a statesmen, or even as a man of 
business. It is too common a sentiment that the man of purity, 
of devotion, of piety, is ordinarily a man of less grasp and 
vigor of mind, of less intellectual refinement and polish, of 
less learning and genius, than the man who lays no particular 
claim to such qualities. There has been, and there still is, a 
feeling abroad in society, as if religion in the scholar, or in 
the man in public life — where it is anything more than a 
mere name — is the index, if not of mental weakness, yet of 
the want of those higher qualities which give influence and re- 
nown in the circle of letters and politics, and is a decided ob- 
stacle in the way of the attainment of those qualifications, 
which give men a high rank now among their fellows, and 
which would hand down their names to posterity covered with 
glory. And many a young man has felt most powerfully the 



13 

effect of this sentiment in drawing him aside from the path 
which an enhghtened conscience pointed out to him as the 
one in which he ought to walk, and in leading him to look at 
life, its duties and responsibilities, through a deceptive and be- 
wildering medium. 

But the sentiment, though so common, and unhappily so 
potent in its influence, is, I am bold to say, wholly without 
foundation, either in reason or in fact. Upon what ground 
can it be asserted that conscientiousness, virtue, in a word, 
RELIGION, not as an abstract, but as a living, operative prin- 
ciple, is in any respect unfavorable to the cultivation and de- 
velopment of the highest powers of the human mind ? What 
is there in religion thus viewed, which must be regarded as the 
antagonist of genius, talent, eloquence or learning? For one 
I confess my utter inability to perceive any, even the least 
shadow of support for such a sentiment. What is religion ? 
I use the term in its highest sense, as comprehending the 
eternal principles of truth and purity, and their habitual, con- 
straining influence upon the affections, the will, and the actions 
of man. What, I ask, is religion ? It is that which teaches 
man the right use of all the talents with which the Creator has 
endowed him, whether of the intellect, the heart, or the out- 
ward life. It is that which supplies to man the incentive and 
the power, knowing the right use of his talents, so to employ 
them. It is that which lifts man above the dominion of sen- 
sual appetite, of low and base desire, of ignoble passions, and 
by which he always walks in the bright and glorious path of 
reason, and faith, and duty. It is that which gives dignity to 
the soul ; which assimilates it to a higher nature than now 



14 

belongs to this earth ; and which brings all the various powers 
of man into harmonious action, and guards against the undue 
ascendency or depression of any one of them, or of any 
particular class of them. Under its hallowed influence, the 
affections of the heart — the moral feelings — and the intellectual 
powers, ever move on in beauteous concord, mutually aiding 
and assisting each other ; like brother and sister, knit together 
in truest affection, the one shedding a mild, softening, mel- 
lowing influence upon the other, and receiving in her turn dig- 
nity and strength. Now if this be true, then surely they judge 
most erroneously who think that religion fetters the mind, 
cramps genius, or is in anywise an obstacle to the loftiest 
flights, the most profound researches, and the widest ranges of 
the human intellect. So far from this, he who would be truly 
wise, truly learned, truly great ; he who would climb the lofti- 
est peak upon the hill of science ; he who would bring out all 
the powers of his inner nature into the fullest exercise of which 
they are capable, and effect all that man can effect for his 
own elevation and that of his race, as men, not creatures of 
sense and time, but beings of a spiritual, an immortal nature ; 
he who would do this ; he who would perform these truly 
noble feats, must begin in the school of heavenly virtue, and 
submit himself, at all times, implicitly to her guidance. 

High worth is elevated place : 

Makes more than monarchs, makes an honest man. 
Tho' no exchequer it commands, 'tis wealth, 
And tho' it wears no riband, 'tis renown ; 
Renown that would not quit thee, tho' disgraced, 
Nor leave thee pendent on a master's smile. * 

* Young. 



15 

The truth of all this was clearly seen, and deeply felt, even 
by the sages of heathen Greece and Rome ; men to whose 
intellectual stature few ever aspire, and still fewer ever reach. 
How frequently and in what strong terms do Pythagoras, and 
Socrates, and Plato, with their illustrious compeers, discourse 
upon virtue as an essential pre-requisite to high attainments in 
philosophy, and as indispensable to true greatness. So much 
stress, indeed, did they lay upon this point, that they required 
a preparatory discipline of fasting and silence in such as 
desired to enter their schools, and ascend to the heights of 
their mysteries. The feelings of these ancient sages is embo- 
died in the strong language of Quintilian, as to the true orator : 
" Neque enim tantum id dico, eum, qui sit orator, virum bo- 
num esse oportere : sed ne futurum quidem oratorem, nisi 

VIRUM BONUM."* 

Nor is this mere speculation and theory. These are prin- 
ciples which have often, in the history of the world, been car- 
ried out into practice ; and the results remain for our instruc- 
tion and encouragement. Do you ask me to point them out? 
With reverence then do I first turn to the most ancient volume 
which we possess, the Bible. I do not now speak of that 
book as an inspired volume. I do not look at the men who 
wrote it as guided and instructed by a superhuman power ; but 
I view them as men and as sages, and their writings as human 
compositions merely ; and I ask what is the character of those 
writings ? What rank shall be assigned to their history, their 
poetry, their philosophy, their morals. Where in the list of 
the ornaments of our race shall we place Moses, and David, 
* Lib. 12 : 1. 



16 

and Solomon, and Isaiah, and Paul ? These questions I prefer 
to answer in the words of one who, Avithin these halls of lite- 
rature and science, will be accounted high authority ; of one 
who for rich intellectual endowments, and rare and varied 
attainments, has seldom been equalled, and scarcely, if ever, 
surpassed ; I mean that illustrious scholar. Sir William 
Jones. "I have," says this truly great man, " carefully and 
regularly perused the Scriptures, and am of opinion, that this 
volume, independent of its divine origin, contains more sub- 
limity, purer morality, more important history, and finer 
strains of eloquence, than can be collected from all other 
books, in whatever language they may have been written." 
Let me add the testimony of the accomplished Frederick 
Sclegel. Of the Book of Job this distinguished scholar says : 
" it is a piece of writing which, considered merely as such, is 
without doubt one of the most characteristic and sublime 
which has come down to us from the ancient world." In the 
same light does he view the Psalms of David, the Allegories 
of Solomon, and the Prophecies of Isaiah. Speaking of the 
faith and confidence in God which were the inheritance of the 
Jews, he says of these works : " that they set them forth with 
a splendor and a sublimity, which considered merely as poetry, 
excite our wonder, and disdain all comparison with any other 
composition. They form a fountain of fiery and godlike inspi- 
ration, of which the greatest of modern poets have never 
been weary of drinking, which has suggested to them their 
noblest images, and animated them for their most magnificent 
flights."* 

* Lectures on the History of Literature. 1 : 190. 



17 

Such is the testimony — and many more illustrious names 
might be cited to the same effect — of genius and learning to 
the pre-eminent beauty and sublimity of the sacred writings, 
considered merely as writings. Now what was the character 
of the men by whom these lofty strains of poetry, and philos- 
ophy, and eloquence were penned ? What were the subjects 
which filled and elevated their minds ? What were the prin- 
ciples and motives by which they were governed ? Were they 
mere worldlings ? Did they look solely, or mainly, to this 
present state of being? Did they regard the powers of the 
mind apart from Him by whom they were given, and the great 
ends for which the Creator gave them ? Were they fearful 
of the clogging, depressing effect of high moral and religious 
principle and aim upon talent and attainment? Far, far 
otherwise. The fount whence they sought, and whence they 
drank in their inspiration was on the mount of Heaven. They 
plumed their wings and soared aloft, and lighted their torch 
at the sun. They mused and discoursed of " Divine Philos- 
ophy ;" and as they were thus engaged, every power and fa- 
culty of the soul was aroused, animated and strengthened ; 
and thoughts and emotions almost too big for utterance strug- 
gled within them ; and when they poured them forth, it was 
in strains of surpassing sweetness and power. O tell not then, 
of Religion, that she is inimical or even unfriendly to mental 
development, or in any way fetters the exercise of intellectual 
power. She is the hand-maid, the friend, the guide, the source 
of all that is valuable, all that is great, all that is beautiful in 
the region of mind. 



18 

But let us turn from men who held a station so peculiar and 
favored as the writers of the Holy Volume, and whose case, 
on that account, with some, may seem to be less in point in 
the matter before us. We leave then the sacred writers, and 
ask whether, in the world of literature and science generally, 
we find any proof and illustration of the ground which has 
been taken as to the perfect compatibility of the loftiest flights 
of genius, and the highest exertions of intellectual power, with 
the most uncompromising adherence, and the most devoted 
attachment to high moral and religious principle ; nay, the 
decidedly favorable influence of the latter upon the former. 
I thus enter upon a wide field, where the chief difficulty is in 
the selection of materials, and in avoiding a wearisome length 
of discussion. 

What then is the result of a careful observation and study 
of the history — the intellectual, literary and political history — 
of society ? Who are the really great and distinguished men ? 
Who are they who have left their impress deeply upon their 
times, and whose influence has been felt long after their bodies 
have mouldered into dust ? Who are they who have given 
tone to the age ; who have guided and influenced the minds 
of their associates ; who have been respected, and honored, 
and beloved; upon whose grave the tear of gratitude has 
dropped from many an eye, and around whose memory the 
bright halo of undying fame has gathered 1 Who are they 
who have instructed, and delighted, and improved mankind ; 
bestowed upon them the most valuable gifts ; and who are 
now, and ever will be, remembered as earth's noblest sons ? 
I answer, they are the men who, with varied powers, and in 



19 

different spheres, and under widely different circumstances, 
were yet the men who, in the words of " the great meditative 
poet of the age," 

— ''seeking faith by virtue strove 
To yield entire submission to the law 
Of Conscience; Conscience reverenced and obeyed, 
As God's most intimate presence in the soul, 
And his most perfect image in the world."* 

And as I thus answer, all history and observation loudly echo 
back my words. I do not deny that there have been celebra- 
ted men who were destitute of moral excellence ; men of let- 
ters and genius, men who swayed a mighty influence during 
their lives, and whose names have been handed down with 
glory to after generations, who were yet the slaves of appe- 
tite, and the votaries of sense ; whose glory was in their 
shame. I am aware that a long catalogue may be produced 
of men of great parts and splendid abilities ; of men who 
have astonished and delighted mankind by their words and 
deeds, who were not obedient to the law of conscience, and 
who did not walk in the path of virtue. Still, to each and 
every one of their achievements, admitting for them all that 
can possibly be claimed, a parallel is to be found in the chron- 
icles which records the deeds of the good. Great as may 
have been the irreligious and the vicious, the virtuous and the 
pious have been equally so, judging by any standard which 
you may select. No splendid achievment of the former, it 
matters not what may be its character, can be mentioned, for 
which a counterpart cannot at once be found among the ac- 
* Wordsworth. 



20 

tions of the latter. I take this ground distinctly, and maintain 
that among the greatest and most illustrious names, including 
all that any choose so to regard, in letters, in science, in the 
arts, in public life, are to be found those whose motives, whose 
aims, whose actions, were all heavenly in their nature, — sons 
of virtue and religion. But this is not all. Bring the lives 
and actions of men to the true standard. Ask what is really 
great; what is indeed sublime and beautiful, in conception 
and performance? Inquire what is the nature of that influ- 
ence, of that reputation, of that fame Avhich is valuable and 
lasting? Take enlarged, philosophic views of these subjects, 
and to what conclusion are we irresistibly impelled? Cer- 
tainly to this ; that none but the characters which I have just 
described, are to be accounted truly great, and worthy of all 
honor and imitation; such characters as the annals of the past 
present to us again and again; characters in which loveliness 
and grandeur are blended together in wondrous harmony. 

" Learning has borne such fruit in other days 
In all her branches: piety has found 
Friends in the friends of science, and true prayer 
Has flowed from lips, wet with Castalian "dews." 

What a host of distinguished worthies spring forth at the 
summons of the Genius of History ! What a long array of 
names distinguished in every department of life, does she 
present to us as humble worshipers at the altar of God, and 
in whose thoughts religion held the highest place ! As we 
turn over her pages, our eye rests upon mighty monarchs, 
sagacious statesmen, profound scholars, gallant soldiers, elo- 
quent advocates, mellifluous poets, and philosophers worthy 



21 

of the name, all of whom are bright examples of piety and 
virtue. We listen to her story of kings and princes, such 
as Alfred, and Edward, and Isabella ; — of heroes and states- 
men, such as CoHgny, and DeMornay, and Hale, and Wilber- 
force ; — of the votaries of science, like Boyle, and Boer- 
haave, and Kepler, and Newton ; — of the sons of song, like 
Milton, and Cowper ; — and of scholars, like Pascal and 
Butler. 

But why do I refer to the men of other climes, and of 
days long past? It is the privilege of the American citi- 
zen, in the short history of his country, to read of many a 
noble spirit, and of many a noble deed ; to read of rulers, 
and statesmen, and warriors, and scholars, whose names 
awaken the sentiments of reverence and love, not only in 
our breasts, but throughout the civilized world. And how 
strong is the testimony which that history gives to the truth 
of our position in regard to the intimate, the indissoluble 
connection between high moral principle and true greatness. 
This is a striking feature of our national history, and one 
which every true-hearted American rejoices to contemplate. 

The immortal Washington ! great in the cabinet ; great 
in the field ; great in his power over the hearts of men ; the 
father of his country ; whose name always sends a thrill of 
pleasure and gratitude through the soul, and which ages 
yet unborn, will remember as synonomous with all that is 
excellent and noble; — what were his sentiments, and what 
his course as to religion. I need not answer the question. 
He is enshrined in every heart, not only as Washington 
the great, but as Washington the good. 



22 

Among the illustrious associates of that wonderful man, 
stands one pre-eminent in mind, in wisdom, in sagacity ; to 
whom all do homage ; and whom, as sons of this state and of 
this college we have the honor to claim as our own. At the 
name of John Jay, what emotions of respect, and admiration, 
and love, fill the mind. There was indeed in him, a rare 
assemblage of those qualities which elevate our nature. He 
stands high in the temple of his country's fame, and all, 
with one consent, acknowledge that there he deserves to 
stand. And what was his estimate of religion ? Let his 
own tranquil course, as a meek follower, a devoted disciple 
of the lowly Jesus, answer. Seldom has the flame of true 
piety burnt brighter than upon the altar of his heart. Sel- 
dom have men looked upon a more consistent Christian. 
From early childhood have I dwelt upon his lovely and ex- 
alted character, with sentiments of the profoundest rever- 
ence ; and while life and reason last, will his name stand 
before me as the symbol of the highest qualities which belong 
to man. To his country his life is a precious legacy. Well 
will it be for her if she value it aright, and if his mantle fall 
upon those who sit at her councils and preside over her 
afiairs. 

I might go on, and from the pages of American history 
bring many more illustrations. I might point you to the late 
Chief Justice of the land, John Marshall, eminent as a 
scholar, a jurist, and a statesman, and no less eminent for his 
virtue and piety. And were I to add the name of William 
White, " clarum et venerabile nomen," the patriarch of the 
American Church, I should do no more than pay a just tri- 



23 

bute to sound learning, high scholarship, unconquerable pat- 
riotism, remarkable wisdom, and pre-eminent purity. 

If I shall be thought to have extended my remarks upon 
this point too widely, and to have gone into an unnecessary 
minuteness of detail in my illustrations, I can only plead 
the importance of the subject, the strength of the prejudice 
which I have been combating, and the formidable obstacles 
which it places in the pathway of those who are about enter- 
ing upon the active duties of life. It is all important that we 
start right in the world ; that our principles and our aim be 
such as will the most surely minister to our own happiness 
and welfare, and that of society. And he who gives to others 
any assistance herein ; who removes any obstruction from the 
road, be it ever so small, and be it done ever so awkwardly, 
performs an act of the truest kindness. 

I will not leave this part of my subject without reminding 
my hearers, in all reverence, of the confirmation which is 
given to the truth of the sentiments which I have advanced, 
in the life and character of the Savior of the world. This is 
not the place in which to treat of this high theme. The bare 
allusion to it may suffice. No man can contemplate that cha- 
racter ; can scan the actions of that life ; can listen to his 
words of celestial wisdom ; can witness his magnanimity, his 
benevolence, his courage, his love, and not feel his soul stirred 
within him in amazement and awe. Happy is it for us if we 
stop not here, but are led on to love, to imitate, and to adore, 

I cannot be misunderstood, I think, in anything which I 
have now said, as if I would depreciate intellectual power, or 
cast any slur upon the attainments of the scholar. Far from 



24 

it. Who can listen to the outpourings of genius, the rich 
melody of poetic song, the powerful appeals of the sons of 
eloquence, or the bewitching stories of by-gone days, and not 
freely own their power, and honor and admire the fount 
whence they had their being. But as I do this, I would in 
return say to those who have been thus gifted above their 
fellow men, in the words of one of the sweetest poets of 
our day : 

" Ye whose hearts are beating high 
With the pulse of Poesy, 
Heirs of more than royal race, 
Framed by heaven's jiecuHar grace, 
(If the word be not too bold) 
Giving virtue a new birth, 
And a life that ne'er grows old — 

Sovereign masters of all hearts! 

Know ye who hath set your parts? 

He who gave you breath to sing, 

By whose strength ye sweep the string. 

He hath chosen you to lead 

His hosannas here below; — 

Mount and claim your glorious meed; 

Linger not with sin and woe." * 

And as to scholarship, it would indeed be strange, if one 
trained up in these halls should fail to appreciate its import- 
ance, or should be backward in stimulating himself and others 
to attain to the highest measure of it within our reach. Ac- 
cording to my poor abilities, I shall ever insist upon the great 
value of sound and thorough scholarship, and aim to promote 
its growth. And I would now summon every young man 
who hears me to the duty of laying broad and deep its foun- 

* Keble. 



25 

dations, and not to rest satisfied until he sees the solid and 
beautiful superstructure of learning worthy of the name, raised 
thereon. 

Still, however, the most refined and accomplished scholar ; 
the man of the most profound research and most varied attain- 
ments ; the man who, aided by nature and education, and for- 
tune, and circumstances, rises to the very pinnacle of influ- 
ence and renown ; who, as yet, has not high moral principle 
as his polar star; who wears not the mantle of Christian 
virtue, wants his crowning lustre. The edifice, though of 
fair and stately proportions, is yet without its most beautiful 
and valuable ornaments ; or rather is without any solid foun- 
dation. As sings the immortal Milton : 

"This is true glory and renown, when God, 
Looking on the earth with approbation, marks 
The just man, and divulges him thro' heaven 
To all his angels, who with true applause 
Recount his praise." 

Or in the language of that wonderful sage of Athens, almost 
inspired : " They who know not what is beautiful, and good, 
and right, are slaves." 

I have thus, gentlemen of the Philolexian Society, laid 
before you a subject of exceeding interest and moment to all, 
and especially to every young American. I have presented 
it as it arose to my own mind upon the contemplation of the 
character of the honored servant of God who presided over 
this College during the years of my academic life. If, in so 
doing, I have failed to awaken in your hearts a deep sense of 
its importance, and the ardent desire, and the strong determin- 



26 

ation that its salutary lessons may not be forgotten, let me 
beg you to impute it not to my theme, but to the feeble powers 
of the speaker, and the imperfect manner in which he has dis- 
charged his duty. Perhaps you will consider the exceeding 
shortness of the time allotted me for preparation, andfthe varied 
and weighty duties and cares of the pastoral office — which 
leave, at the best, but a few scattered moments for literary pur- 
suits — as a sufficient apology for the numerous defects of my 
performance. Gladly would I have resigned the duty to other 
hands ; but a summons from these groves to a true hearted son 
of our Alma Mater is like a request of a beloved parent, or 
the dearest bosom friend. To hear is to obey. 

Let me then, gentlemen of the Society, in bringing these 
remarks to a close, call your attention to the position which 
you occupy, preparing, as you now are, under the guidance 
of the able, experienced, and learned Faculty of this Institu- 
tion, for your entrance upon the public duties of life in this 
young but mighty nation. 

You are now to consider and make choice of the princi- 
ples by which you will guide yourselves when you leave these 
quiet retreats and mingle with men. Two ways are before 
you; the way of duty, and the way of expediency: the way 
illumined by the bright and cheering rays of celestial truth, 
and that upon which falls the lurid glare of error, sensuality, 
and selfishness. The one will conduct you to usefulness, to 
happiness, to honor: the other, though it winds through 
meads which to the eye are profusely decked with beauteous 
flowers, and which seems to lead up to bright and glorious 
regions, will yet most assuredly bring you to misery and 



27 

shame. Nor is this all. In your wrong choice, in your fatal 
wanderings, your country suffers. Upon what does the fabric 
of her institutions rest ? Upon the virtue and intelligence of 
her sons. If this be wanting, then that proud fabric will fall. 
It may be adorned, and beautified, and gilded by wealth, and 
prosperity, and pleasure : wit, and eloquence, and poesy, yea 
pomp, and circumstance, and power, all may there find a 
home; still that fabric rests only upon the shifting sand, and 
ere long it will totter and fall. That fall, young gentlemen, 
you will accelerate unless you go forth hence clad in the pan- 
oply of virtue. Bear with you the treasures of knowledge 
and science ; take with you the well tempered sword of 
learning ; wield that sword wisely and bravely ; meet man- 
fully the duties of life ; give to your varied pursuits the best 
energies of your minds ; whatever you undertake aim high ; 
but above all wear next your heart, yea wear loithin your 
heart, the jewel of religion. 

Let reverence of thyself thy thoughts control, 
And guard the sacred temple of thy soul.* 

Then, by the blessing of heaven, you will share in the 
praiseworthy exertions, and the glorious rewards of those 
who have done their country good service ; who have put off 
her evil day ; and who have, perhaps — God grant it ! — secured 
her peace and perpetuity. 



* Pythagoras; Golden Verses. 



'# 



NOTES 



[Note A.] ▼^ 

On the decease of Mr. Nichols, a small volume of his Essays and Letters 
was printed for private circulation among his friends. To this was prefixed 
a short biographical notice by one who had the best opportunity of judging 
of his character, and which may well find a place here. 

" His talents were indeed of no ordinary grade, and his application in the 
pursuit of Literature and Science, to which he was zealously attached, 
intense. Modest and unassuming, few of his acquaintances knew his worth ; 
and even his most intimate friends, previous to his decease, had no adequate 
conception of the extent of his mental powers, and the excellence of his 
heart. He gave early indications of a superior mind, and showed so decided 
a preference for literary pursuits, that he was, contrary to the original inten- 
tion of his parents, instructed in the preparatoiy studies, and entered Co- 
lumbia College, N. Y., in September, 1821. Here, greater facilities for im- 
proving himself in the various departments of Hterature and science were 
held out to him, than he had yet possessed, and it cannot be supposed, that 
a mind so eager in the pursuit of knowledge, and active in deriving it from 
every source, would permit these to pass neglected. With a settled and 
firm resolution rarely met with, he set himself against every occupation and 
pursuit that might in any way prevent application to study, and conse- 
quently retard improvement ; and by a uniform adherence to this wise de- 
termination during his college course, he made rapid and substantial advan- 
ces in those branches of knowledge to which his attention was directed, and 
in mathematical science in particular, to excel in which, he was pecuHarly 
fitted by the natural bias and disposition of his mind. His moral character 
was a transcript of the purity of his heart. The principles of virtue and re- 
ligion, at an early age, strongly inculcated upon his mind, took the deep 
hold upon his affections which they retained throughout the whole of his 
short career. Having stored his mind with useful and polite learning, and 
received the highest honors of the Institution of which he was a member, he 
graduated Bachelor of Arts, August 2d, 1825. 



30 

The profession upon which, after mature deliberation, he thought fit to 
decide, was that of the Law ; and he had akeady completed his arrangements 
for commencing the study, when he became an attendant upon his sick 
parent, whose illness assumed an alarming aspect, and in a few days proved 
fatal. This duty he faithfully discharged, until he had imbibed the same 
dreadful malady,* and fell himself, its untimely victim. He was born at 
Hempstead, L. I., October 8th, 1804: and died September 23d, 1825, in the 
twenty-first year of his age. The sweetness of his disposition, the atoiability 
of his deportment, the uprightness of his heart, won the esteem of all who 
knew him ; and strengthened the ties of natural afiTection, by which numerous 
relatives were endeared to him. He has erected a monument to his own 
memory, in the breast of every surviving friend, which death itself will not 
destroy." 



[Note B.] 
After a very interesting conversation with the Rev. Prof. McVickar as to 
the life and character of Dr. Harris, I addressed him a note, requesting that 
he would do me the favor to embody what he then said in writing, and allow 
me to use it as a note to the address. In reply, I received the following 
letter : 

Columbia College, June 12, 1840. 
Rev. and Dear, Sir : 

In answer to your inquiry, I have little to add to your faithful and well 
drawn sketch of 7ny early friend, and your old president, the Rev. Dr. 
Harris. I knew him however well, and loved him much. For the last 
eleven years of his life, that is, from the date of my official connection with 
the College in 1817, I was in habits necessarily of close and daily intimacy 
with him, and saw in him much to awaken admiration, that the world around 
did not see, in his quiet unobtrusive walk and character. 

As a college disciplinarian, he was marked by a singular union of extreme 
gentleness with firmness, amounting upon occasion, to high austerity. It 
was, in short, the disciphne of a gentle but wise and watchful father, ever 
kind to his ' children,' as he at all times reputed and termed the students, but 
then sometimes stern in his kindness ; above all, when any moral obliquity 
was to be noted in them, or want of sensibility to religious motives oi duties. 
On such occasions, the severity of his rebuke and manner, not assumed, but 
springing out of the depth of his own awakened feelings, used to inspire awe 



The Typhus Fever. The father died on Friday the 16th ; the son on Friday the 23d of 
September ; the daughter on Friday, October 7th, 1825. 



31 

not only into the heart of the culprit, but I remember well into that too of 
some of those who sat at the board with him. That a student, for instance, 
should exhibit want of reverence during the reading of the scriptures in the 
chapel, was in his eyes a deep oiFence to the College and to God, and he 
struck at it as at the very root of rebellion, contumacy, and neglect of duty ; 
for how, he argued, could one reverence the word of man, who did not re- 
verence the word of God. On this point of founding the duties of the 
student directly on reverence to God, and appealing pointedly to their reli- 
gious feeUngs as the ground of their obedience. Dr. Harris was perhaps 
somewhat peculiar in the principle : there is no doubt, he was very suc- 
cessful in practice. He found it, as it unquestionably is, the firmest rock 
on which education and its requisite discipline can be built. 

Among the hidden talents of one, who, by the world, was far from being 
reputed a man of talents, I would mention a vein of poetic power, not often, 
but sometimes beautifully and touchingly exhibited ; and inproof of its being 
a vein of ' true gold,' would add, that it was never brought to light but by 
the deep workings of genuine feeling ; the blow it was, that brought forth 
the spark of fancy, and most frequently it was in the tones of sorrow. 

On more than one occasion have 1 known him thus suddenly inspired, 
though but for a moment, to pour forth his agitated feelings in verse, by 
circumstances that in minds of another temperament would have called them 
forth in a far different strain. Once or twice, especially, I remember, on 
occasions when his feelings had been deeply wounded as they sometimes 
very unintentionally were, amid the sharper contests of opinion that took 
place in the board of trustees ; then have I known him to retire to his room, 
and find rehef in giving words to his complaint in strains alike plaintive 
and poetic ; so deeply pious, so humble-minded, and so mournful, as at the 
time to remind me (in the spirit at least that dictated them) of the sohtary 
plaints of 'the sweet singer of Israel.' 

Among the customs that accorded well with this pensive poetic strain, was 
his habit of passing a meditative half hour soon after day-hght every fine 
morning, in walking around the College green. His venerable figure and 
musing gait at that solitary hour, as I occasionally saw him from my window 
under the noble trees that in age were just his contemporaries, slowly pacing 
back and forth, formed then on my fancy a striking, and as it has since 
proved, an abiding picture, as that of an overtasked and gentle mind, seek- 
ing in quiet communion with nature, and the author of nature, peace, amid 
many sources of disquiet, and strength to arm, for its daily task of duty, a 
spirit not well fitted for the rougher encounters of the world. 

Very truly, your friend and brother, 

JOHN McVICKAR. 



r^^ 



